


Intensity

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Desk Sex, Dominate Emma in dream world, Dominate Regina, Drama, Dream Sex, Dry Humping, Erotica, F/F, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Humor, Leg Humping, Lesbian Sex, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Meh: I'll update the tags as I go, Office Sex, POV Alternating, Plot? Ha! (maybe a little), Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, SwanQueen Fanfiction Facebook Group (Once Upon a Time), Vaginal Fingering, Wet Dream, alternate endings, collection, swanqueen - Freeform, swanqueen endgame, switch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2020-08-14 17:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Emma is having trouble sleeping at night due to recurring dreams involving the mayor. The dreams seem to become a bit more real with the passage of time. Is Emma truly pining away for the mayor with such an intensity that her mind makes the dreams feel real? Or, is there something or someone in the shadows playing with Emma’s . . . mind.





	1. CRESCENDO

**Author's Note:**

> (Geez, Naqq, for crying out loud—will you get off of this smut train already? NOPE. All aboard! ;-P. I’m thinking of turning this into an erotica series, but we’ll see how it goes. Hopefully you guys don't think its completely terrible.) 
> 
> Not sure how long this will be (chapters, length, etc.), so we will call it a work in progress for now. Also, this is my first attempt at incorporating magic into a story (because I think I suck at it); so let me know if you think it works. Magic won’t be in this first chapter, but it will be in later ones.
> 
> So, (I know, I'm rambling) this is an excerpt of my . . . playlist (yes, that kind of playlist *evil smile*). I listen to these specific songs from my list while writing this story. Certain rhythms match perfectly with certain scenes in my head. Listen to them while you’re reading this if you feel so inclined or just listen to them in general:
> 
> Stay With Me by Sam Smith  
Nights Like This by Kehlani  
End of Time by Justin Timberlake  
Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton  
Pillow Talk by Zayn  
Panty Droppa by Trey Songz  
T-Shirt and My Panties On by Adina Howard   
Don’t Let Go by EnVogue  
The Hills by The Weeknd  
Skin by Rihanna  
Make Me Feel by Twisted Psykie  
Would You Mind by Janet Jackson  
Discipline by Janet Jackson 
> 
> And lastly, I do not own the characters but I do own the mistakes. Please leave a review for this sucker. Check me out and tell me if you like the story. Much love!

* * *

Emma kicked her limbs free from the confines of her cotton sheets and huffed her frustration into the ears of a still night. She flipped her restless form about the bed, hoping—no, praying—that sleep would claim her and give her the reprieve she sought. Her weary eyes burned with exhaustion and her hands nearly trembled from the effort it took to fluff her pillow for the third time. It was no use. She was bone-tired and yet sleep would not come. And even if the lull of slumber finally decided to call on her, Emma feared it. Her senses were dulled and yet the sharp reality of insomnia massaged her scalp until she nearly screamed. All she wanted was rest—a little peace. She lay in the deafening silence, an atmosphere that used to bring her such comfort, and tried to quiet the thoughts racking her mind. There had to be a plausible explanation.

Emma was afraid to close her eyes; she literally feared that if she did—even for a moment—she would drift into the dream realm. The images would return and assault her senses and leave her aching and bewildered. She would see those chocolate eyes peering into her very soul and hear that voice whispering directly in her ear, _“Say my name.”_

The blonde shivered and retrieved the covers she’d cast aside. She pulled them up to her chin as if they were capable of protecting her from that voice and . . . those images. Even now, crippled with exhaustion yet somehow fully awake, Emma could still see flashes of sweaty olive skin. She saw clips of that lithe body grinding into hers and manipulating the blonde’s quivering limbs until the sheriff only knew fire and ecstasy. She heard herself whining and gasping. Her finger tips tingled and practically vibrated as she remembered how her dream self gripped the sheets with one hand and held on to her demanding lover with the other.

_“I can’t hear you, sweetheart,” the voice teased her and those red lips smirked while the blonde writhed and whimpered into the night air. “Say it, Emma,” came the husky demand a second time._

Emma growled and tried to bury herself deeper into the sheets. Even in wakefulness the dreams haunted and taunted her. They licked at her consciousness and teased her throughout the day. They came to her in the night and left her legs trembling and panties wet. Those blasted dreams combed through her psyche and inserted themselves in her senses until her nipples became tightened pearls against her tank top and her womb became an incubator of primal lust and need.

_“Say my name.”_

The digital clock on her nightstand mocked her. _12:03a.m._ How befitting, she groaned inwardly. How absolutely perfect that she would be tortured during the beginning of the witching hours by images of none other than Regina Mills.

When had the dreams started? She honestly couldn’t remember. Emma often dreamt of the mayor in one form or another. Granted, the dreams in the beginning were not sexual, but dreaming of Regina in general was never an odd occurrence for the sheriff. Yet, once the dreams shifted into more intimate themes, the realism of the brunette’s presence and touch left Emma squirming and reaching for that intoxicating phantom. She would awake startled and half expecting to find Regina attempting to flee into the night. And each time, she awoke to a quiet and still room, alone with her aching wetness and throbbing clitoris. The torture of awaking mid-orgasm or mid thrust caused the blonde many a restless night and many fruitless and frustrated screams into her pillow.

Even now, Emma could practically _taste_ that mouth against her own. She brought a shaky hand to her tingling lips and nearly gasped at how sensitive they felt to the touch. She felt as if she’d just been kissed. Her body hummed from the memory of the attention lavished on her in her dreams and, as though powerless to fight it, she did what she found herself doing all too often since the dreams started . . . she slid her hand under the covers and between her legs. It frightened her and yet intrigued her to no end with how much evidence of her arousal she found between her thighs. It was insane.

In the beginning, she would stroke herself timidly, almost afraid to give herself the release that her body craved. The idea was of climaxing with fresh images of Regina thrusting into her brought forth a torrent of emotions that the blonde could not yet bring herself to examine. Yet, with each passing night, the intensity of the dreams progressed and Emma’s urges grew stronger. The need clawing at her center fought against her logic and dignity and returned victorious. All rationale and reasoning bowed to the power of her ache for release. That first night, after having waged war against her inner lusty demons and losing miserably, she’d stroked herself into a fevered daze, thinking about that damn dream:

_Emma’s hair was wound tightly through Regina’s fingers as the mayor pulled the blonde’s head back from the pillow. “I want to hear you,” Regina grunted as she slid her interwoven fingers of her other hand into the blonde. Regina ground her bare pelvis against Emma’s behind and thrust deeper with her hand until they both fell forward. Emma whimpered and cried out as she clenched the sheets in her desperate fists. Her ridged walls tightened around the mayor’s rhythmic prodding. _

_“Regina,” the sheriff gasped. Her frantic whines grew as her climax grew near. She did her best to brace herself for the impact but her body was no match for the level of release the brunette pulled from her. The mayor, sensing the change in her body and heeding the blonde’s manic cries, slammed into the sheriff until her body refused to obey her brain’s command. She willed herself to stop shaking, she cursed her limbs when they refused to stop vibrating. And still Regina demanded more. The quakes refused to go away and defiantly invited a second series to join the first until she was delirious. _

_“Turn over, sweetheart,” the mayor whispered hotly in her ear._

_After she was able to finally register the request, Emma willed her body to obey the goddess hovering above her. The moment she did . . . _she was on her back and alone in her dark room and snapped back to her lonely and aching reality. _Fuuuck!_

After that first night, Emma consistently found herself torn between the two paths that sparred for her attention. On one hand, while she couldn’t fight the dreams, she could fend off sleep. She could ply her body with stimulants until her nerves were raw and her senses were scrambled. Surely then, even if her lids did meet their expected end, the pure exhaustion from days without sleep would cause her to not dream. Yet, even as she mulled over the possibility, she knew it was a drastic and ridiculous notion that was doomed to fail. Then . . . hell, that only left option number two: she would have to deal with it. Somehow, the very idea of this torment being a permanent fixture in her life seemed a fate worse than never sleeping again. Was she prepared to let her head hit the pillow every night _knowing _that she would dream of the mayor in one of the _many _scenarios that always played out?

She sighed as she gave up the fight against her own body. Emma’s hand parted her swollen labia. She eased her fingers into herself with one hand and used the other to roughly circle her clitoris. Her hips jerked from the bed to meet her own downward thrusts. She fucked herself until her wrists burned and even then she couldn’t bring herself to stop. The flashes of Regina on top her refused to set her free. She delved roughly into herself again and again, trying her best to replicate the sensations from her dreams. Even though she’d yet to fall asleep this night, the images were still all too fresh. The pulsing rays of her orgasm exploded and blossomed up her spine until she nearly howled from the force of her release.

If she went this route, if she truly accepted that her desire for Regina was so strong that it now manifested in her dreams, Emma would be accepting a life of utter agony. She would have to face Regina on a regular basis and do her _best _not to let her desire and need seep into the atmosphere. She would have to train herself not to confuse the dream Regina with the Regina that was the other mother of her child. But as Emma tried to calm herself and wait for the spasms to completely die down, she thought of Regina—the real Regina—and those impossibly pouty lips. Her core sprung to life yet again and Emma found herself feeding it the poor substitute of her own hand for the second time that night. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as the electricity crackled through her womb. The strain of the orgasm rocked her until Emma was powerless to stop herself from doing the one thing that had started all of this. The climax wrapped her in its glory and mocked her as she faded into the darkness of sleep with her hands still between her sweaty legs. As she gave up her fight against the siren call of slumber, Emma couldn’t help but wonder how she could continue to face the one and only Regina Mills.


	2. No Focus, No Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma discovers that her dreams make it increasingly difficult for her to be in close proximity to Regina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This will ultimately end up being a collection of erotic stories. "Intensity" is just the first of the collection. So this is chapter two of the first story.
> 
> Thanks to SwanQueen Fanfiction on Facebook and their input, this particular story will have alternative endings (I'm pretty excited about that). Again, all mistakes are my own but I do not own the characters. Going to try to make this a weekly update. Let me know how you like the chapter. Regina finds out about the dreams in the next chapter. I'm tickled pink thinking about that chapter. Anywho, much love! ;-*

* * *

Emma groaned as she walked into Granny's the next morning. She did her best to ignore the soreness between her legs and to block out the images as they crept to the forefront of her mind. In the end, though spent from her self-indulgences, she'd still managed to fall into that inevitable dreamscape:

_She entered a land where the scent of pomegranate and cinnamon lured her down a path of satin beneath her bare feet. The trail was dark but in the distance, Emma could see the faintest hint of a light. It called to her—it beckoned for her to bask in its illumination. It silently promised to caress her and bathe her in its luminous rays; and just as silently, she felt her body comply and float toward that mysterious light . . ._

"Emma, sweetie, you look like shit," Ruby said loudly.

"Hey," came a sharp voice accompanied by the snap of a towel on the counter. "Language!"

"Sorry, gram," Ruby replied weakly, shrinking away from her grandmother's scowl. The brunette turned her attention back to her friend and sighed. Emma's hair was slightly unkempt, which wasn't all that unusual at times. Only today, it was the dark circles under her eyes and furrowed brows that gave her away.

"Not today, Ruby. Just give me a hot chocolate," the tired sheriff sighed.

"Sure thing. One coffee coming right up."

"No, I—"

"Oh I heard you. But trust me, you _need _coffee. Let me remind you that Regina is on the war path," Ruby offered conspiratorially.

"For starters, isn't she always pissed off about something," Emma sighed and placed her face in her hands. "What's the problem now?"

Ruby stopped pouring the coffee and stared at her friend. "Have you been under a rock? Someone did a number on Regina's car last night. I mean they busted that sucker to hell."

"The _Mercedes_?" Emma's eyes bugged as she took in the news.

"You didn't know? Half the," Ruby glanced around, checking for her grandmother, "_fucking _town almost went up in smoke last night."

"Fireballs," Emma asked with a tiny smile.

"Balls? No. She upgraded—more like boulders," Ruby said excitedly. "I don't know _who _did it, but I feel so sorry for that poor bastard when Regina catches him."

Emma sighed as she thought of the mayor storming out of her mansion in the middle of the night in her night clothes. She envisioned her scantily clad with fire nipping at her heels as she rushed outside to see the damage done to her precious luxury vehicle. Maybe the cool night air had grazed against her bosom just enough for her nipples to harden but she'd been too upset to care. Maybe, just maybe if someone had bothered to call Emma—since she was the _sheriff_—she would have gotten the chance to see exactly what the mayor did . . . or didn't . . . wear in the middle of the night.

"Hey, she has magic. I'm sure she already fixed her pride and joy. Couldn't have been that bad. No one bothered to call me," she grumbled.

Ruby pushed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her friend and shook her head. "That was the million-dollar question: '_Where the hell is Sheriff Swan_?'" Ruby leaned over the counter and smiled at the blonde as though she was preparing to receive top secret information. "So, where the hell _were _you last night?"

"That's an awfully good question, Ms. Lucas." The all too familiar raspy voice slid down Emma's spine and she shuddered as she turned around to greet a very agitated Regina Mills. "Why is it that Storybrooke's finest was nowhere to be found when _my _property was being destroyed?" The blood red lips curled into a snarl as Regina stepped closer to Emma.

"Well, Regina. I'm only a phone call away. All you had to do was pick up the phone," the sheriff stuttered. Emma turned back to the counter, cursing herself for stealing a glance at the mayor's cleavage. To her surprise, the other side of the bar was clear--Ruby had abandoned her. _Coward._

Regina slid onto the bar stool next to Emma and leaned in so that only Emma could hear her smoky voice. "I called you six times, my darling sheriff. _Six. _The two idiots—assuming they have your number saved and don't rely on their pitiful memories—sent messages and called as well."

"I don't know who you guys called, but it wasn't me. My phone didn't ring last night—no missed calls—no texts—nothing."

"Is that right, sheriff," Regina asked in low tone.

Emma closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on anything other than the feel of the mayor's warm breath against her ear. She did her best and fought her damndest to push back the images of the dreams from the previous night. Yet, sitting so close to the mayor and hearing that sultry pitch and smelling that goddamn perfume, Emma's mind pulled her back into that alluring dream realm:

_A large bed awaited her at the end of the darkened pathway. The bed lay bathed in that same light that reached out to Emma along her journey. The almost blinding white sheets were folded back . . . inviting her to slip beneath their comfort. She drifted toward the expansive mattress and eased between the silky fabrics. The sheets cradled her and caressed her. A force, unseen by mankind, gently spread her legs and she felt the weight of the second person before the entity made its presence known._

_"_ _I want to hear you," the naked woman sighed as she settled her weight between Emma's trembling thighs. "Let me hear you." Those red lips pressed against hers and nipped lightly at her bottom lip. "My very own swan." The mayor's mouth left the blonde's to begin a downward trail along the length of Emma's body. The brunette moaned at the feel of her nipples sliding down the sheriff's chest and pressing into Emma's stomach. Her full lips grazed one of Emma's hardened and peaked nipples before letting her teeth scrape the taut flesh. She sucked the bud into her mouth and hummed her satisfaction. Emma arched into the touch and raked her fingers through Regina's hair. The blonde panted with a need so severe that it seemed to permeate the very atmosphere that surrounded them. She whined her yearning mews into the rays of light and her lusty moans reverberated against the sheets. They filled the brunette's ears as she switched to the other nipple._

_"_ _That's right. Let me hear you," she whispered hotly before taking the flushed breast between her eager lips . . ._

"Did you hear me, Emma?" The sheriff visibly shook herself from her inner musings and recoiled at the sound of the mayor's voice so close to her face. Even saturated with anger and irritation, Regina Mills' tone was still a blanket of liquid sex that reminded Emma Swan of all those damned dreams.

Regina leaned away from the sheriff and watched her with cautious eyes. She noted how the woman fidgeted and attempted to hide her shaky hands. She studied the blonde and how she refused to hold her gaze—Emma was actively avoiding looking at her.

"N-no one called me last night," Emma repeated as she cleared her throat.

"Give me your phone, sheriff." Regina stood from the bar stool and held out her hand expectantly.

Her perfume filled the sheriff's nostrils and it was all Emma could do to restrain herself from turning and leaning into the subtle fragrance. She inhaled deeply and released a shaky breath that seemed to come from the pit of her stomach.

"I said give it to me, Emma."

Emma groaned but refused to turn and fully face the mayor. She couldn't, not as long as her body was betraying her and her mind was telling her how easy it would be to peer into the woman's open blouse if she would just turn around . . .

"Don't make me ask you again. Hand it over. Now."

Emma shifted on the bar stool as the heat rushed between her thighs. Regina stood in all her regal glory. Her ire for the insolent blonde radiated from her body and combed through Emma's messy hair. Emma did her best to inch away from the mayor without Regina taking notice. It didn't matter that the mayor's words were laced with venom. Emma could not bring herself to care that the brunette next to her seemed to grow more agitated by the minute. With each word that the mayor spoke, Emma could only hear the words that came from the dream version of those succulent lips:

_"_ _Give yourself to me, Emma."_

_Emma gripped the sheets in her fists, her arms stretched out and muscles straining as her lover stroked her slow and deep. The dark brown eyes above her bore into her soul and searched for the peak of the blonde's ecstasy. They watched every twitch of her face and took in every trembling undulation of her body. The brunette moved her hips in rhythm to her deliberate strokes and let her wet and swollen labia grind against Emma's thigh. Even as the brunette's passion consumed her, she refused to tear her gaze from the supple offering that lay beneath her._

_Regina smiled down at Emma when she felt the woman's body begin to tense. She did not rush her. The tempo of her thrusts rocked Emma's body on a wave of unhurried lovemaking. She let her slender fingers firmly press against the sensitive flesh inside Emma's pulsing core and pushed deeper until her fingers disappeared. Then, as if she had all the time in the world, she pulled her fingers away from the heated center only to carefully insert them once more. Regina coaxed the nectar from Emma's body. She summoned it and it pulled from the blonde's womb and coiled through her cervix._

_"_ _I want all of you. Don't hold back. Let me see you," the husky voice pleaded. Those brown eyes twinkled with anticipation as the impending onslaught of spasms began to creep up Emma's spine. The climax settled in her stomach and seemed to rest its weight there before releasing its heat to consume every inch of her body. Emma's mouth fell open in a silent cry. Regina leaned forward and raked her tongue along her bottom lip._

_The tendrils of the orgasm wrapped her in its embrace and crawled languidly through her veins. This was not just sex. Somehow, Regina was opening her up and making love to Emma's essence. In an attempt to quell the intensity, Emma turned her head and shut her eyes. She needed this fire in her belly to die down—before there was nothing left._

_"_ _No, Emma. Look at me. I want that. Show me you. I want all of it." Regina pushed deeper and her lover whimpered as her sensitive sex gripped the skilled hand. "Give it all to me, sweetheart. My very own swan. Give it to me . . ."_

A hand slamming on the bar jolted Emma from her flashback. While she wasn't sure how long she'd mentally checked out, one thing was certain: this was not sustainable. She couldn't function and do her job or operate around town—not when the slightest hint of Regina sent her into a trance like state. The blonde took note of her posture and sighed. She was skittish and her eyes never settled on any item for an extended period of time. A part of her was afraid that if she did allow herself to relax, she would turn to Regina and the brunette would take one look into the sheriff's tired eyes and _know._

"I said give it to me, Emma."

_Oh for fuck's sake. Of all the terminology. _She couldn't do this. Hell, she wouldn't. It was too much for one person to have to endure. The source of her nightly aching and cravings stood within breathing distance, practically whispering the words from her wet dreams. It was too fucking much. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. Least of all Regina. With hurried and jerky movements, Emma snatched her cell phone from her jacket pocket and slammed it on the bar—completely ignoring Regina's out stretched hand. There was no way in hell she was going to risk touching that woman.

"T-take the damn phone," she half growled and half sputtered before storming out of the diner. Emma knew that she couldn't spend the rest of her life running out of rooms every time Regina entered one. It was erratic and childish. Eventually people would begin to take notice. Eventually _Regina _would begin to take notice. No, she couldn't make this a habit; but in that moment, the only thing that mattered—the only thing she could concentrate on—was putting as much distance between them as possible.

Regina stared open mouthed after the retreating sheriff. Her anger and irritation slowly ebbed away and in their place lay confusion and maybe even a bit of concern. Emma had gone out of her way to avoid eye contact with her. The blonde had seemed almost repulsed by the notion of Regina standing so close to her or even performing the simple task of placing a phone in her hand. The blonde's frazzled appearance and flighty behavior was not lost to the mayor. She'd noticed it immediately but decided that the whereabouts of the sheriff on the night that her car was vandalized took priority over any snide remarks regarding the sheriff's demeanor and disheveled exterior.

Regina slid Emma's phone into her pocket and motioned for Ruby to return to the counter. She ordered her usual black coffee and watched as a nervous Ruby, who had undoubtedly witnessed the odd interaction, moved meekly to fill the order.

The mayor left the diner and walked toward her office. She would give the sheriff the day, she decided. She would give Emma a chance to breathe and perhaps to collect herself before she confronted the sheriff about her absence and her behavior. Regina sipped her warm brew and frowned as she replayed the encounter in her head. Tomorrow, she would go to the sheriff's station; and if Emma Swan was still this nervous and almost twitchy version of herself—Regina would demand an explanation.

* * *


	3. REVELATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma can't keep it together. Regina finally discovers why Emma is out of sorts. (And, I kinda had "Discipline" by Janet Jackson playing on repeat for this chapter. What can I say, the woman is freaky and my inner voice likes that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this chapter. I was on the fence about it and I think I still am. Anywho, we are nearing the end of this story. Keep in mind there will be alternate endings. This is the first version. I don't think I've said this here or in any of my other fics: THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS AND KUDOS! Keep them coming!
> 
> Also, the more I re-read these, the more errors (grammatical, etc.) I find. I am horrified. My humblest apologies, guys. I swear I'm going to comb through these stories and try to catch all these darned errors. I am horrible at editing my own work.
> 
> Enjoy! ;-* Much love.
> 
> P.S. See bonus notes at the end.

Emma sighed and finally allowed herself to relax. She sank into her office chair and let her head fall back against its worn frame. She pushed herself as close to the desk as she could until the arms of the chair prevented her from scooting any further. In her mind, if Regina had chosen to follow her, the desk would be her shield. It would protect her—or protect Regina. Having the mayor, real or imagined, within arm’s reach and not being able to act on her urges, was becoming a war that Emma feared she would soon lose. 

She’d stormed out of the diner and prayed that Regina wouldn’t follow her. Neither Ruby nor David was scheduled to work at the station and Emma didn’t trust herself alone with Regina. She couldn’t risk looking into those dark eyes and falling into another trance. She couldn’t let herself be ensnared by the sound of that voice that practically massaged its way through her scalp every time Regina opened that perfect mouth . . .

_Emma looked down at her legs and surveyed the mess Regina had left behind. Her limbs were smeared with the mayor’s burgundy lipstick and the dried evidence of Regina’s orgasm from riding Emma’s thighs . . ._

Emma shook herself and rose from her desk. She mumbled incoherent admonishments to herself as she tried—truly tried—to banish the images that had taken hold of her senses. She battled against the scenes that danced in her mind. She warred against the faint moaning that seemed to call out to her even though she was wide awake. She fought against it all, she fought hard . . . and lost spectacularly.

_“Make love to me, Emma.” Regina’s hips rose slowly off the bed as she whined with need._

_“Again,” Emma asked teasingly. She eased her fingers between Regina’s legs and watched as the brunette closed her eyes in utter contentment and delight._

_“I need you,” Regina gasped. _

_Emma pushed deeper into her lover and held Regina’s shaking hips in her arm. She sealed them together—each movement bonding them for life. She grabbed the mayor’s legs and placed them over her shoulders. Emma rested herself on her knees and smiled at the image of Regina’s lower half lifted from the bed and aimed straight for her waiting mouth. _

_“Do it, Emma. Please,” the mayor moaned. _

_She descended on the woman and claimed what the brunette offered so freely. Regina’s back arched higher—feeding more of herself into the greedy mouth. The brunette’s hands raked through her own hair as she let the sensations of Emma’s tongue and eager lips dominate her aching labia. Emma pushed her tongue between the swollen lips and was rewarded with a cry of rapture that freed itself into the night. She sucked and prodded the mayor until her limbs began to shake. Emma wrapped her arms around Regina’s thighs to hold her in place as her unrelenting mouth drove the mayor closer to the splendor of a glorious release . . ._

* * *

Regina sat in her office glaring down at the sheriff’s phone. She scrolled through the numerous text message notifications and voicemail indicators. She smiled to herself as she read through the threatening text messages she’d sent the nonresponsive sheriff the night before:

**10:47p.m.**

**Regina Mills:** You had better be on your way!

**11:09p.m.**

**Regina Mills:** What damn good does it do to have a police department and no police?! 

**11:23p.m.**

**Regina Mills:** So help me, if I find out that you’re ignoring my calls . . .

**11:47p.m.**

**Regina Mills:** Strange that you should disappear the night my car is practically destroyed.

**11:54p.m.**

**Regina Mills:** I see that being a police officer no longer interests you. You can just turn in your badge and gun and leave the vandals for that idiot father of yours!

**12:06a.m.**

**Regina Mills:** I swear, if it were not for Henry . . .

**12:11a.m.**

**Regina Mills:** My office! First thing in the morning, Swan!

She noted the crescent moon symbol in the top right corner of the phone and sighed to herself. Leave it to Emma to not realize that her phone was set to ‘Do Not Disturb.’

The mayor caressed the phone absent-mindedly as she let her thoughts turn fully toward the sheriff and her disheveled appearance at the diner. Certainly Regina had noticed that Emma had a certain rugged quality that she at times found . . . interesting; but the form that greeted her—or shunned her rather—today was merely a frazzled and skittish shell of the normally cool and laid back blonde. Emma had actually _flinched_ when Regina reached out to her. The blonde had recoiled as if she were disgusted by the mayor’s proximity and the mere thought of her hands touching her. In the few fleeting moments she had been able to catch the blonde’s eye, the mayor saw a world of fear and worry and . . . restraint?

Emma had sat on that stool practically trembling and wringing her hands, yet doing her best to hide her quirks from Regina’s alert inspection. The mayor, in a reflex, nearly extended a cautious hand to smooth the messy curls of Emma’s mane. She almost—almost—reached out in a moment of genuine tenderness and concern to comfort the obviously shaken and troubled Emma Swan. Yet, her stony façade was easily slipped back into its rightful place the moment Emma turned away from her and slammed her phone on the counter. She’d watched as Emma all but flew from the bar stool as if hell itself were nipping at her heels.

_Why wouldn’t she look at me?_

Regina couldn’t explain it. She couldn’t put it into words if she tried, but there was something about Emma refusing to meet her gaze that bothered her more than anything. Those green eyes often sought her out. They scanned a room and their eyes would often lock on one another—sometimes in irritation, but in other times . . . curiosity, wonder maybe? Granted, they were not the best of friends, or even friends for that matter. Their relationship had taken on a tone of civility. They were able to be in the same room and stand close to one another without the town fearing that either a pair of boots or heels would be the only thing left from their public encounter. The two women were at a point in their dealings with one another where snarky banter and snide remarks were expected and welcomed. It was their dance. It was the tango of their lives and the idiocy of their connection made all the sense in the world to them.

_Why wouldn’t she look at me?_

The question gnawed at Regina. It ate away at her logic and refused to allow her to concentrate on her work. Regina replayed the encounter in her mind for what seemed like the hundredth time before coming up empty-handed yet again. She wanted to give the sheriff the day to collect herself—she really did. Yet, she needed answers. If nothing else, the sheriff had a duty to find the spineless slag who vandalized her Mercedes. Whatever was happening with the sheriff, it was no excuse for Emma to shun her responsibilities. ‘Protect and Serve’ was not a mere catchphrase. Emma had a _duty _to protect Regina’s property and _serve _that son of a bitch up on a silver platter so that Regina could feed his balls to the dragon under the town hall building.

She wanted to give Emma that space, she reasoned within herself. But she couldn’t. She told herself that it was merely out of necessity that she head to the sheriff’s station. Regina convinced herself that she wasn’t concerned about the blonde on a personal level—that was preposterous. No, it wasn’t the blonde’s obvious aversion to being in Regina’s presence that spurred her on—that would be ridiculous. But as the town’s mayor, she reasoned as she grabbed her coat, it was her job to ensure that her employees and elected officials were capable of doing_ their _jobs. Emma’s absence the night before and her behavior at the diner more than justified a trip to the sheriff’s station. Regina—in her official capacity as mayor of course—was entitled to an explanation. The brunette swayed out of the office and with determined steps and breezed back into the chill of Storybrooke’s crisp air. No, she sighed one last time as she opened the doors to the sheriff’s station, it wasn’t that she cared about Emma’s reaction to her on a personal level. Emma’s reactions and responses meant nothing to her; however, if the _sheriff_ was having problems . . . well then . . . that was something she, as _mayor_, would have to address immediately.

_Why wouldn’t she look at me?_

* * *

Emma sat slumped in her chair oblivious to the world around her. The call of Morpheus had proved too much for the young woman and she slid into a realm of purple haze. The smell of pomegranate and cinnamon returned. Instead of the large bed bathed in white light, Emma stood in a dimly lit black and red room. The room was small and housed a black iron framed twin sized bed in the far right corner. The sheets, like the walls, were stained with varying degrees of dark crimson and onyx hues. Black plush carpet covered the floor and absorbed the impact of Regina sinking to her knees:

_“Did I tell you to touch yourself?” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper as she entered the room. Regina, realizing she’d been caught, ceased her ministrations and sank to her knees. Emma stood over her and took in the sight of her naked lover whose skin was still flushed from nearly bringing herself to orgasm._

_“No,” she replied almost meekly, yet the fire in her gaze belied her compliant tone and posture. _

_“Why did you,” Emma demanded quietly._

_Regina’s dark stare met her lover’s and for a moment both women were lost. “The sheets . . . they smell like you. I couldn’t help it.”Her breathing quickened as she spoke in a low tone meant only for the ears of her Swan._

_Emma lowered herself to the carpet and pushed Regina until her back met the thick floor covering. Regina wrapped her thighs around Emma’s waist and tightened her hold to bring the blonde closer to her. _

_“I told you to wait,” Emma spoke softly before sliding her tongue across Regina’s parted lips._

_“I couldn’t,” Regina whispered back._

_“You know what that means, Regina,” Emma cooed. She reached over their heads to grab the leather cuffs that were connected to the iron legs of the bed. “Give me your hands, baby.”_

_“E-emma,” Regina whined against her throat and lifted her hips until her swollen labia met Emma’s stomach._

_“Now, Regina.”_

_“What are you going to do,” Regina asked breathlessly._

_“Teach you to listen, Gina.”_

_Regina’s trembling legs tightened slightly around Emma as she let the sheriff put her hands over her head and fasten them in the leather shackles. Emma leaned back and smiled at the sight of the mayor restrained on the floor and shackled to the leg of the twin bed. _

_“I’m sorry,” Regina moaned, her hips still grinding and pressing her swollen lips against Emma’s abdomen._

_Emma leaned forward and kissed the full lips that parted so easily for her. She soaked in the pants that escaped and swallowed them before returning for more. _

_“I know, baby.” Emma pushed her weight into Regina and the brunette gasped from the friction. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of Emma’s muscles between her legs._

_Emma slid her hand between their slick bodies and entered Regina with one finger. The moment Regina’s hips moved to take in more of her hand, Emma took her finger away._

_“Look at me, Regina,” Emma commanded but her love was caught in a haze of ecstasy and torment. “Regina . . .”_

“For the third time, yes it’s me! If you’d get your head off that damned desk you’d see that!”

Emma jolted upright, nearly over correcting and almost spilling herself out of the old office chair.

“Regina,” the sheriff all but squeaked. _Kill me now. _

* * *

The mayor watched as the Sheriff’s face shifted from confusion to horror in a matter of seconds. She’d expected the sheriff to at least pretend to be in the middle of working once the sound of her heels clacking down the hall announced her arrival. Instead, she was greeted by a slumped over sheriff who was too out of sorts to greet her properly but wouldn’t stop mumbling her name.

“That’s it,” the brunette raged and slammed her hand on the sheriff’s desk. She pulled up a chair and sat across from Emma—peering at the blonde with a mixture of exasperation and unease. “I want to know what the hell is going on with you—and I want to know now.” Regina unbuttoned her jacket and crossed her legs, signaling to the sheriff that she had no intentions of leaving.

Regina watched Emma wipe the corners of her mouth and stretch in her seat.

“Were . . . were you _sleeping_?” The mayor’s tone dripped with disgust as she watched the sheriff take in her surroundings and attempt to become more alert. “I can’t tell you how safe I feel knowing that Storybrooke is under your watchful eye.”

Emma simply stared at Regina with wide eyes and a pitiful pleading look that made absolutely no sense to the mayor at all.

Regina sighed and rubbed her temples before licking her dry lips. “I’m waiting, Emma.”

Emma watched Regina’s tongue retreat back to the safety of that perfect mouth and almost moaned. She lowered her gaze and cleared her throat. “T-there’s nothing to tell,” she stuttered.

Regina rolled her eyes and leaned forward. Emma chanced a glance upward and watched as the mayor’s blouse fell open. Regina’s chest lay exposed and teased a view of her lacy bra. The black material mocked Emma as it clung to the flesh that Emma longed to sample.

“I may not have your alleged superpower, Swan; but I know a blatant lie when I hear one. I’ll ask you again: What the hell is going on with you?”

Emma fidgeted with the lapel of her jacket but still refused to meet the mayor’s gaze. “It’s nothing,” she began slowly.

“It’s a bit more than nothing. You’re nowhere to be found when you’re needed—”

“Oh come _on, _Regina. Like you didn’t fix that car the second you saw what happened. I bet you it still smells like your magic.” Emma looked up with a knowing smile, briefly forgetting why she couldn’t look at the mayor.

“That’s not the _point!_ The point is, whether I can fix the car or not, someone targeted my vehicle and since you’re the self-proclaimed finder of people who don’t want to be found—find the bastard! Do your job.”

“It’s just a car, Regina. Calm down.”

Regina leaned in further and sneered at the blonde. In that moment, Emma knew Regina was slowly faded away and in her wake the Evil Queen was threatening to make an appearance. “It’s just _my _car,” she hissed. “I’m sorry that my being violated was such an inconvenience for you last night.

Emma did her best to block out the mayor’s choice of words. “I told you, no one—”

Regina pulled Emma’s phone from her jacket pocket and slid it across the desk. “Next time you don’t want to be disturbed, alert Ms. Lucas or your father.”

Emma scrolled through her phone as saw the numerous text messages and voicemail notifications. She did a poor job of hiding a smirk as she read the messages from Regina.

“Something funny, sheriff?” Despite herself, Regina smiled knowingly.

The blonde cleared her throat and met Regina’s gaze for moment before looking back to her phone. “I’m sorry,” she spoke timidly. “I didn’t realize I’d changed the settings. I-I should have been there.”

Surprised by the admission, Regina leaned back in her seat and observed the sheriff. “Yes, well thank you.” She softened her tone and tried one last time. “Emma.”

The sheriff closed her eyes at the sound of her name on the mayor’s lips. Regina couldn’t help but notice how it seemed to almost pain the woman to hear the mayor say her name.

“Please,” Regina continued in her delicate tone. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

_“Emma. Please. I was wrong. I won’t do it again.” Regina cried out as Emma removed her hand from between her legs for the fourth time. The brunette was delirious with arousal. She shook and nearly wept when Emma’s fingers entered slowly and pushed until her fingers disappeared. _

_Emma smiled against those quivering lips. “Liar.” _

_She delved into Regina’s tight body again and again, thoroughly enjoying the unhurried and torturous pace she’d set for her straining lover. Regina pulled against her restraints and all but growled when Emma pulled her hand from between her legs . . ._

Emma forced the images to the back of her mind. “I haven’t been sleeping well. I get these . . .”

_Nightmares? Night terrors? Wet Dreams? Fantasies? _“I get these . . . I’ve been having these dreams and I can’t get much sleep.”

Regina looked at the tired woman across from her and allowed herself to embrace the slither of sympathy she felt creep into her bosom. Yet, something was off.

“Go on,” Regina encouraged.

Emma averted her eyes and stared intently at her phone. “There’s nothing more to tell,” she spat, her tone unnecessarily defensive.

“You’re sleeping on the job; you look like hell; and you won’t look at me for more than five seconds at a time. I’d say there is plenty left unsaid.”

The sheriff pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Why couldn’t Regina just let it go? “Look I’m sorry about that, okay? But I told you: I’m not sleeping too good these days. I didn’t get to finish my coffee, so I’m not the best company right now.”

“I don’t need your company, dear sheriff. I need you alert and I need you to do your job. You had every opportunity to finish your damned coffee before you ran out of the diner.” _Away from me. _When Emma said nothing in return, Regina’s voice reached out into the silence and grabbed hold of both their senses. “The dreams,” she began quietly. “What are they about?”

The question hung between them and their eyes connected and locked together in a duel that Emma was powerless to end. She should have seen that question coming. “What,” she gulped.

“These dreams that plague you. You know, the ones that seem to keep you up at night . . . what are they?” Regina waited with bated breath as she stared at Emma’s lips. There was this pull, this urgency that called to her. She couldn’t explain why, but she just felt that she had to hear Emma say the words. A part of her, something deep within herself that seemed to be connected to the sheriff somehow, needed that bit of revelation. That tethered piece of her needed that door to be opened. Regina couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she somehow knew that the answer lay in the content of the sheriff’s dreams.

Emma stared helplessly into those dark wistful eyes. The blonde nearly missed the hushed and whimsical tone as she looked into those midnight eyes that seemed to be searching her very soul for clue and answers. Emma sat in her chair and gripped the arms of her seat. She pursed her lips tighter together, fearful that the truth would spring forth and that her confession would bring her world crashing down over her head. The sky would open and the rain of hell would dance at her feet and Regina Mills would be the master puppeteer of her demise. She couldn’t tell her. She just couldn’t.

“Emma . . .”

Again, Emma sighed at the sound of her name leaving those red lips.

_“Emma. I can’t take anymore. I need you . . .”_

“Emma!”

The blonde stood abruptly, startling them both with the force of her movements. “Look Regina. I know I look like shit and I’m having a crap day. I’m sorry about last night; but I don’t want to go into the whole dream thing.”

Regina looked up at the sheriff and realized . . . Emma Swan was . . . dismissing _her?_ As if in shock, the mayor rose to her feet slowly and collected her purse. She knew she would get no further information. Emma’s stance was weary but resolute. The blonde was determined to hold on to her secret and carry her torment to the grave.

_If she won’t tell me, I’ll just have to see for myself._

She held out her free hand and smiled as a cloud of purple smoke swirled and covered her hand. Emma watched as a steaming cup of coffee appeared in the mayor’s hand. Regina smiled lightly at the pitiful blonde on the other side of the desk as she reached to offer the startled woman the scalding brew.

Emma took the cup cautiously careful not to let her fingers graze against the mayor’s fingertips.

“It’s a fresh cup. Just the way you like it,” Regina spoke smoothly. “It should at least get you through the lunch hour.”

Emma stared down at the warm cup in her hands and then set her grateful green eyes on the mayor. “Thanks, Regina.” Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Even without the words, they both knew that Emma was thanking Regina for not pressing the issue.

“Of course,” Regina said as she cleared her throat and headed toward the door. “We all have our bad days . . . or nights, in your case.”

As she rounded the corner to exit the sheriff’s station, Regina muttered an incantation to activate the spell just out of the earshot of the sheriff. She smiled darkly when she heard the distinct sound of Emma sighing and decreeing, “Damn that’s good.” She sashayed back onto the streets of Storybrooke and returned to her office. If Emma wouldn’t tell her—so be it. The mayor would travel through her dreams and find out for herself just what was happening with Emma Swan.

The excitement lapped at her veins and stroked her skin. Somewhere in the back of her psyche she knew, she _knew _that after tonight, nothing about her encounters with Emma Swan would ever be the same. Regina sat behind her desk and nearly hummed as she worked. Nightfall could not come soon enough.

* * *

Emma plopped gracelessly on her bed, grateful to have made it to the end of another day. She kicked off her boots and threw her jacket across the room. If only she’d practiced her magic as Regina had advised, she could have magicked away her clothes. She groaned to herself as she sat up and pulled her shirt over her head. She struggled out of the tight jeans and lay across her bed in her bra and panties. The stress of the day washed over her and settled into her aching limbs. Granted, after Regina’s visit the rest of the day proved uneventful; but it was those brief tense moments that left her on edge for the rest of the day. She’d sipped her coffee in relative silence and stared into the distance with glazed and unfocused eyes. The warm brew raced through her body and seemed to help calm her nerves and yet restore a bit of her mental clarity. She’d gone about the rest of her day patrolling and performing the menial tasks bestowed upon a sheriff charged with guarding the lives of those who lived in a sleepy town.

Emma pulled back her sheets and settled between the thick covers. She scrolled through her phone and re-read the messages from her parents and Regina. She smiled to herself as she read the mayor’s threatening words. That smoky voice rang in her ears as she imagined the mayor typing away angrily at her phone. She pictured Regina in her robe, biting her lip and staring intently at the screen as she focused all her energy and ire toward Emma.

**12:11a.m.**

**Regina Mills:** My office! First thing in the morning, Swan!

Emma couldn’t even bring herself to feel shame or embarrassment when the wetness began to drip onto the seat of her panties. She read the message again and let her mind flash back to the mayor leaning forward, exposing the top of her firm breasts.

Her hand slid under the covers on its own accord. She pulled her panties to the side and read the message again. She let the imagined forceful tone of the mayor invade her senses. She envisioned the incensed brunette backing her against a wall and kicking her legs apart. Emma dropped the phone and grabbed her wrist with her other hand. She grabbed hold of her own wrist and pushed her fingers inside of herself. She moaned Regina’s name as she thrust up to meet her stiffened hand and crooked fingers. She turned her head and bit into her pillow in order to quell the foreign falsetto cries that seemed determined to spill from her lips. The orgasm claimed her and rocked her in its brilliance. Even then, her hand seemed reluctant to stop. She tightened her grip on her wrist and pulled her coated fingers from her swollen core. She collapsed onto the bed and stared at her fingers as if she were in a daze. She brought her hand to her mouth—imagining that it was Regina’s mouth—and tasted the nectar that ran down her slender digits. The weight of her tiresome day lifted and was replaced with the lull and beckon of a much needed slumber—a slumber filled with dreams and promise. A slumber which, unbeknownst to the drifting blonde, would include a guest of honor the moment Emma Swan began to dream.

* * *

Regina sat at her vanity as she went through the motions of her nightly routine. She rubbed the expensive moisture over the smooth flesh of her forearms and let her nails lightly rake up her arms and rest on her shoulders. Her thin nails traveled the length of her collar bone and up the path of her slender neck. She stared at her freshly scrubbed face and smiled faintly at the image staring back at her . . . and waited.

. . . and waited.

. . . and waited.

Regina turned to the full length mirror across from her bed and frowned in confusion. Surely by now the sheriff should have been overtaken by the powerful pull of the urge to sleep . . . and to dream. The mayor had taken her time moving about her bedroom. She moved at a languid pace and periodically glanced at the looking glass anxiously waiting some sign of life. The spell she’d cast had been a simple one. As soon as the sheriff began to dream, the contents of that dream would appear in cinema fashion in the confines of her full length mirror. Regina would be able to watch the actions of the dream in real time as Emma experienced them in her sleep. The brunette had effectively given herself a front row seat to the world premiere and private screening of Emma’s mind and she anxiously awaited for the film to begin.

The mayor huffed in frustration as she made her way to her king sized bed. Perhaps Emma was finally able to get a good night’s sleep, she told herself as she slid beneath her covers. Maybe the blonde didn’t dream _every _night and Regina just happened to be unlucky enough to use the spell on the one night that Emma could actually find peace in her slumber. Regina sank further into the comfort of her satin sheets and let her mind drift between consciousness and the haze of a twilight sleep. She leaned into her tiredness and sighed with defeat as she let the beginning stages of sleep claim her body. She could always try the spell again tomorrow she told herself before the hand of Morpheus came to claim her as his own. He spooned her and the warmth of his touch coaxed her into a haze of sleep that was both light and weighted. She would try again tomorrow, she repeated.

Regina stretched and turned on her stomach and snuggled deeper into the mattress. She groaned as her limbs settled into place.

_“Emma, please.”_

The sound of a feminine and wanton moan swept through the quiet room and burst through the haze of the still air.

Immediately Regina hurled and sat up in her bed—all thoughts of sleep and the lord of slumber instantly forgotten. The glow of the mirror brightened as the contents of Emma’s mind came into full glorious view.

_Emma paced back and forth, slowing observing the quivering brunette stretched out on the twin sized bed._

_“Please what, Regina?”_

Regina sat gaped mouthed as she watched Emma crawl between her sweaty thighs.

_Regina tried to reach for the blonde but her restraints granted her little purchase. “Oh no, Regina,” she drawled and leaned in until her lips touched Regina’s straining neck. _

_“I won’t do it again, Emma. I promise. I need you.”_

The mayor swallowed against the dryness of her throat as she watched herself writhe beneath Emma Swan. The blonde woman was grinding against her and teasing her—refusing to grant her dream self the release she so obviously needed.

“Is that what she thinks,” the mayor challenged out loud, her chest heaving with a mixture of lust and awe as she watched Emma part her labia and thrust roughly into her. Her swallow breath nearly matched that of her dreamscape counterpart as she watched the blonde push deeper into her imagined twin. “As if I would ever be submissive,” Regina huffed breathlessly.

The ache between her legs transformed into a throbbing demand. She stared into the mirror, at times forgetting to blink, as she watched the private show.

_“Tell me it’s mine,” Emma demanded calmly but sternly._

_Regina stuttered the affirmative and pleaded for her release._

_Emma leaned forward and gently bit one of Regina’s hardened nipples. She sucked the bud into her mouth and let her tongue soothe the peaked flesh. She increased the pressure and bit harder—holding the soft tissue between her teeth as her fingers continued to work the brunette’s body into a frenzy._

Regina’s shaky breath mingled with the cries of her dream self. She leaned against her expansive headboard and let her hands slide under her silky sheets. She stroked her thighs lightly as she watched herself tremble in the mirror and beg for relief. Emma’s muscular body stayed wedged between her legs and her narrow hips moved in sync with the ministrations of her seemingly skillful hand.

“It all makes such perfect sense now,” the mayor whispered as she continued to stroke her own thighs. As if it were an afterthought, the mayor parted her thighs and let her fingertips graze the seat of her panties. The thin fabric was coated with her juices and the mayor hesitated only a moment before pulling the covering to the side.

_“Say it again, baby.”_

_“It’s yours, Emma.”_

_“Turn over.”_

_Regina turned positioned herself as best she could on her hands and knees. The leather cuffs provided just enough give for her to erect her posture with ease._

_“No—all the way down.”_

_Emma pressed her hands in the small of Regina’s back until the brunette’s trembling form was prostrate and her legs were spread to Emma’s liking._

Regina gasped at the same time as her dream self as they both reveled in the feel of being penetrated by eager hands. She watched as Emma positioned the back of dream Regina’s thigh so that she could grind her clitoris against the brunette’s leg. The moment Emma rammed her fingers into the quivering mayor, Regina pushed forcefully into her own tight cove and cried out from the skill of her own hand. She moved her wrist to match the pace of the blonde’s in the mirror and imagined that Emma was the one in her bed working her body into a fevered pitched of unbridled ecstasy.

_“Please. P-please, Emma.”_

_“Will you wait for me from now on,” Emma asked in a chastising voice as she rode the mayor._

_“Yes,” the mayor hissed urgently. “Yes! Emma. Please, I can’t take it.”_

_Emma leaned forward as she continued to role her hips and press down into the mayor’s leg. She licked the sweat from the column of Regina’s spine before whispering hotly in her ear, “Let it go, baby.” With that, Emma increased the tempo of their love making. The black iron frame of the small bed creaked and hit the hall as Regina cried out. She screamed out for the deities of old and the spirits that she could not name. She pulled and fought against her restraints as her orgasm lifted her from her body and showed her a view of the world she had never seen. The climax bit into the base of her neck and paralyzed her. It sparked through her veins and brought her back to life with a jolt of heat and electricity that rivaled the thunderbolts of the heavens. _

Regina’s orgasmic cries filled the room and walked in tandem with the incoherent pleas of her mirror image. Together, they rode their climax and wailed into the night air as the grips of the release refused to let them go. It surged through them both until real Regina could do little more than twitch once the claws of her orgasm threw her back onto the sheets and left her slumped and breathless against her headboard.

_Emma eased her fingers from the exhausted mayor and slid down her body. She licked the juices she’d left from the back of Regina’s thigh and smiled at how sensitive and responsive Regina became at even the slightest of touches. _

_The blonde eased back up her lover’s limp body and whispered sweetly to the dosing mayor. “Next time I won’t be so nice, Regina.” . . ._

Long after the images from the mirror faded and the dark stillness returned to the room, Regina lay propped against the headboard with her hand between her trembling legs. She didn’t have the energy to move. Her brain was clouded with warmth and exhaustion and the urge to sleep. Tomorrow, she told herself, as she began to give in to sleep for the second time that night. Regina understood now. Her presence was tormenting the blonde: the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume, the sway of her hips . . . how close they stood to one another. It must have been an excruciating daily reminder of the need and hunger coursing through the sheriff’s veins. Emma was losing sleep because of _her—_because she _wanted _her. The very notion caused her loins to stir again but the exhausted brunette pushed aside the temptation. Tonight she needed sleep. Her body practically vibrated as the residue of her orgasm lingered under her skin. No, tonight she would rest. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow, she would take what she had learned and go forth to claim the Swan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lastly, I want to write something cute and fluffy. I do, but this smut monster in my head is not having it. I tried to write a cute one-shot and Naqq, my alter ego lust demon (hence the pen name), was not having it. This is a conversation I had in my head with my pen name. (Naqq's words are in quotes):
> 
> "So, wait. They don't have sex?"
> 
> No. She's teaching her how to cook.
> 
> "Oookay, but they could still have sex."
> 
> They can't have sex in every story.
> 
> "If I'm writing it, they're doing it in every story. All of them."
> 
> But I like stories that are just clean cut sometimes. They're fun to read.
> 
> "That's fine. I like them too--but they should put more sex in them. If I was writing it--"
> 
> I know, I know. They'd be having sex.
> 
> "Damn straight . . . just so you know."
> 
> (I can't tell you how many stories this crazy voice has refused to write all because no one pulled out a nipple or had an orgasm. Anywho, just thought you guys would like a peek into my twisted brain.)


	4. DREAMS DO COME TRUE PART 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Regina knows that Emma dreams about her? What will she do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I am submitting this right before bed so I can imagine how many errors there are throughout this story (saying sorry now). Lastly, this was supposed to be the last chapter of version one, but that darned voice in my head is demanding that the office scene have a chapter all by itself. ;-) Thanks so much for the reviews and kudos thus far. Hope you guys like it. Much love! Muah!

Emma sat up in her bed and hissed at the brilliant rays of sun that poured into her bedroom. Her stiff thigh muscles protested the swift movements as she pushed herself off the bed and away from the comfort of her sheets. The stained sheets and dried evidence of her arousal on her fingers and thighs reminded her yet again of the pitiful nightly routine that she’d established. It was becoming an unhealthy addiction. It was not the masturbation itself that bothered the blonde; no, it was the _way _she seemed to attack her own body. She ravished herself with increasing fervor each night—somehow believing—maybe wishing—that the demanding strokes of her hand would give her the slightest preview into what the mayor’s hands would feel like in bed. Each time she thrust into herself, she imagined that it was Regina staking her claim and breaking her into a million pieces. Naturally, she had no way of knowing if the brunette was naturally dominant; but Emma didn’t doubt it. Regina was all fire and heat and regal aggression. She carried herself in such a way that commanded obedience and compliance—of course she would be an overwhelming force in the bedroom.

The sheriff stripped her bedding before dragging her tired body into the bathroom to take a shower. She nearly screamed as the cold water cascaded over her rigid form. She needed this, she told herself. Even with the cloak of night long forgotten, and the stream of sunlight replacing the lunar glow of twilight, Emma’s body still burned. The dreams were taking on a life of their own and each one seemed to be more potent than the last. She would awake in the middle of the night and still feel the lips . . . the hands. The touches would linger for hours—well into her shifts at work and stay with her until the end of the day. It was a vicious cycle. She would come home and give in to the urges—only to fall into another snake pit of dreams.

The frigid stream of the shower did little to keep the images at bay. One moment she was dreaming about dominating the mayor, and the next instant she was being held over a massage bolster and pleading with the brunette to make the rolling spasms stop.

_“Regina! R-Regina!”_

The sound her own orgasmic cries rang in her ears as she finally turned off the shower head.

_“Look what you’ve done,” Regina hissed seductively. She pointed to the soiled sheets._

The sheriff sighed aloud as she dressed for work. She tried not to focus on the way the rough material of her jeans seemed to scratch against her skin—reminding her of a certain set of fingernails that raked over her thighs in her dreams.

“Get it together, damnit,” she snapped at herself.

She couldn’t afford a repeat of yesterday’s dastardly performance. Regina had every right to question her whereabouts. Hell, the woman had even come calling on her out of genuine _concern. _It wasn’t the brunette’s fault that Emma was a walking ball of raw nerves and frustration. It wasn’t the brunette’s fault that her perfume made Emma want to reach for her and lick the nape of her neck. In all fairness, even without the dreams, Emma had long envisioned spending a night with the mayor. The blonde laughed at her own desperation. Even her dream self was anxious for the touch of that scintillating Siren. While a bed would have been preferable, it was certainly not necessary. If the last images from the previous night’s torture were any indication, a chair, a desk, the floor—anything and anywhere—would have been just fine.

_Emma stood on the other side of Regina’s desk and waited for the mayor to acknowledge her presence._

_Finally, the mayor slid her reading glasses from the tip of her nose and stared into the sheriff’s eyes. “What do you have for me, sheriff?”_

_Emma shifted nervously from one foot to the other as those dark eyes pinned her with their heated gaze. She cleared her throat—trying her best to keep the tremble out of her voice as she spoke. “I-I don’t have anything yet, Regina. It’s only been two days.”_

_Regina stood slowly and dropped her glasses to the desk before walking over to the fidgeting sheriff. “I’m disappointed in you, Emma.” She circled the blonde slowly and smiled when she saw the woman shiver. “I want the person who damaged my car, Emma,” Regina whispered against her ear once she’d stopped behind the sheriff. The tip of her tongue grazed Emma’s ear and the blonde jolted from the contact. Regina’s arm shot out around her waist to hold her prey in place. Her forearm pressed into the sheriff’s taut abdomen, sealing them together._

_“Regina . . .” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper._

_“Perhaps you need the proper incentive.” . . . _

Emma’s laughter died in her throat as she made her way to Granny’s. She could do this, she could compose herself. What choice did she have? She _had _to do her job—she _had _to interact with the general public . . . she had to interact with the mayor.

* * *

Regina surveyed her appearance in the full length mirror and smiled. For the first time—ever—she was seeing her reflection through the eyes of someone else. She was seeing a being that someone desired. She was seeing a body that someone—Emma Swan in particular—lusted after. Emma wanted her and if the images from her mirror were any indication, the blonde _craved _Regina. The power of that revelation coursed through her veins and her smile deepened. Emma Swan’s deepest and darkest desires had been on full display for the mayor. The pull from Emma’s desire and those dreams were so powerful that it seemed the most natural thing in the world for the mayor to fall asleep pleasuring herself while watching the lascivious contents of the sheriff’s mind play out before her. Even when the mayor was spent and drifted into a peaceful sleep, the mirror’s telling glow would awake her from her slumber and provide yet another intimate scenario that left her wanting and writhing against her own hand.

The last scene—the office fantasy—had all but taken her breath away. It was nearly two in the morning when the light from the mirror illuminated her sleeping quarters. She’d opened her heavy lids to the sight of her dream self pinning Emma Swan against the wall with one of the Sheriff’s legs wrapped around her waist. Emma’s mouth hung open as hot moans puffed from her thin lips. Her features were contorted into the perfect blend of ecstasy and discomfort as her backside hit the hard cold wall. Dream Regina rocked between the sheriff’s legs until the blonde sagged bonelessly against the wall.

_Regina pulled the dazed woman away from the wall and guided her to the desk._

_“I want the person who destroyed my car, Emma.”_

_Regina pressed her hand against Emma’s back and pushed her down onto the desk. The sheriff’s bent frame shook and twitched slightly as the mayor’s nails clawed the blonde’s uncovered thighs. She kicked the sheriff’s legs apart before leaning over and kissing the back of Emma’s neck. _

_Emma gripped the corners of the desk to prepare herself. _

_“As I said, I don’t think you’ve been properly motivated,” the mayor said through gritted teeth as she spread Emma’s swollen lips with her demanding fingers . . ._

Regina licked her lips as she thought of how her dream self invaded every inch of the woman that was beneath her. She’d watched as dream Emma arched up off the desk only to be pushed back down. She nearly came undone from the sight alone. She salivated as her dream self hiked up the tight blue skirt only to reveal that she was not wearing panties. The dream mayor had taken her bare mound and ground it against Emma’s sweaty backside—riding the blonde’s muscled glutes until Emma’s behind was coated with the mayor’s arousal.

Dream Emma had bent to her every whim and will. She’d whimpered and begged—actually _begged—_Regina to take her. She’d taken everything Regina had given her until her weak form could take no more. _Damn_.

Regina gave herself a parting appraisal in the mirror. Every thread she wore—right down to the tiniest detail—was a recreation of the outfit the lovely Ms. Swan had conjured for her in her dream. The white silk blouse draped across her breasts and gave the public a view of an enticing amount of cleavage that bordered on provocative. The blue skirt was an exact match for the skirt from Emma’s dream. It hugged her hips and moved with her body like a perfect shadow with each sway of her hips. The red belt and blood red stilettos drew attention to her trim waist and toned legs; indeed, Regina Mills was going in for the kill. The brunette had every intention of hunting down her prey, toying with it, and then putting it out of its misery. Her smile deepened as she contemplated all the ways she could tease Emma Swan before she consumed her. As she headed out the door, she knew one thing was certain: showing up to the diner in the exact outfit from Emma’s last dream was a hell of a good start.

She practically floated down the street as she let the “home movies” play over and over again. On some level, she knew that she should be ashamed of herself for relishing the images. Surely, as much as she enjoyed the revelation of Emma’s lusty desires, the blonde was likely doubly tormented. Yet, the notion that Emma Swan spent her days pining for her increased the moisture between her legs. For months, and perhaps a bit longer—if she were being completely honest with herself—she’d allowed her thoughts to take on a more . . . intimate nature concerning the irritating blonde. Regina would watch Emma saunter into the room with a quiet magnetism and bristle at the tightening of her stomach. Somewhere along the way, among the years of bickering, indifference, and peace, Regina Mills had begun to suspect that the tension between them stemmed from the bowels of unleashed sexual hunger rather than animosity. But now, now that she knew for sure, her lusty musings began to transform into the makings of an actual plan. She envisioned the frustrated blonde spending her nights fighting . . . or giving in . . . to the pictures and dialogue that danced in her head every night. It had to be torture for the woman. Regina thought of how Emma seemed to recoil from the slightest touch and chuckled to herself. If Emma was truly that . . . sensitive . . . she could only imagine the responses she could elicit from those enticing lips if she actually pursued the woman.

Regina entered Granny’s with an added air of superiority that permeated the cozy diner and cleared the way for her as her stilettos made her presence known. _Showtime._

* * *

Emma stiffened at the sound of those ridiculous pumps clacking against the tiled floor of the diner. If she’d been standing in the middle of a stampede and the cries of the masses assaulted her ears, she would still be able to recognize the distinct sound of Regina Mills entering a room.

“Sheriff,” Regina leaned in, her face a bit too close to the back of Emma’s head. Emma closed her eyes against the sound of that damned voice and willed herself to behave. _You can do this. They’re just dreams. This is Regina, the mother of your child. Nothing’s going to happen. Be a fucking adult and Get. It. Together. _Emma took a deep breath and expelled the last of her nervous jitters. _The dreams are just dreams._ She repeated the slogan inwardly and let the tension roll off her shoulders as she maneuvered toward the sound of the sultry voice behind her. _You got this. _

Slowly she turned on her bar stool and faced the mayor. _Shit._

_SHIT. _

Somewhere out there, perhaps far beyond the constellation and deep in the clefts of galaxies that were yet unknown to mankind, Emma Swan was certain that there rested a deity whose sole purpose for creating her was to watch her suffer.

Emma took in the low-cut blouse and impossibly snug skirt. The white blouse barely hid the black lace covering her bosom. Her blue skirt clung to her thighs and rode up ever so slightly as she inched closer to the sheriff.

_Regina pulled away from Emma and allowed the woman to catch her breath before issuing her next command._

_“Sit on the desk.”_

_Emma, still wrapped in the haze of a post orgasmic splendor, barely registered the request. She sagged against the desk, fully prepared to let her body marinate in the aftermath. Regina, sensing that the blonde was miles away, pulled the sheriff away from the desk and turned her around. The two women stood face to face, each taking in the striking features of the other. _

_“I said, sit on the desk.”_

_Regina pushed against Emma’s body until the edge of the desk began to make indentations on the back of Emma’s thighs. Finally, the blonde shook herself from her stupor and hopped clumsily onto the cool surface of the large black desk._

_The mayor lowered herself to her knees, and let her heated stare fall to Emma’s glistening and swollen sex. “You’ve made quite the mess, sheriff,” she purred and licked her lips. “I suppose I’ll have to clean you up.”_

“Sheriff,” the mayor repeated—her face the picture of innocence.

Emma did her best to shake the thoughts of dream Regina out of her mind but failed miserably.

“Madam Mayor,” Emma said slowly, not trusting herself to say anything more.

“I trust that you’re feeling better this morning,” Regina smiled and placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

Emma bristled at the contact but couldn’t bring herself to move away. Those chocolate eyes bore into her and held her captive. She tried to ignore the feel of her knees touching the mayor’s thighs, but Regina seemed content to shift slightly from one leg to the other and let their legs graze each others.

“Better,” the blonde asked as if in a trance.

“Yes, you seemed a bit out of sorts. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite like . . . that.”

“Your usual, mayor,” Ruby asked cautiously.

Hearing her friend’s voice break through the hypnotic spell of Regina’s voice and touch, Emma spun to face the counter. Regina hid her smirk as she purposefully leaned over the sheriff in order to retrieve her coffee. Emma gasped at the feel of the mayor’s breasts pressing into her back.

“Thank you, Ms. Lucas,” Regina cooed.

Regina backed away slightly from the tense sheriff and sipped her scalding brew. “Oh, Sheriff Swan?”

Emma hung her head as the sound of her name once again fell from that woman’s lips. She spun around for a second time, forgetting just how close the mayor’s body was to hers. Her knee bumped roughly into the mayor’s leg, causing the brunette to jump and sending the cup of coffee flying out of Regina’s hand. Regina quickly stepped back in order to ensure that the contents of the cup did not find its way onto her white silken blouse.

Both women stared down at the puddle—one with a look of absolute horror and the other with a vestige of irritation and anger. Regina lifted her unwavering gaze to the sheriff and leveled her with a look that made the blonde wish she could disappear.

“Well don’t just sit there,” Regina barked. “Get me a towel!”

Emma jumped at the sharp tone and turned to get Ruby’s attention but the waitress was too busy staring at Regina to notice that she was being summoned. Emma, in her haste to end her humiliation and hopefully send the mayor on her way, missed the smile that flinted across the waitress’s face—one of confusion, utter disbelief, and surprise that quickly morphed into recognition and undeniable understanding. Had Emma been aware of anything other than her own discomfort, she would have seen the wicked smile that passed over the mayor’s face as she looked at Ruby and winked.

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby and snatched the dish towel from her distracted friend. Slender fingers pulled the towel from her frantic hands and Emma whipped around and met Regina’s scowl with a questioning look.

“I think you’ve done quite enough, sheriff. I’ll take it from here,” she hissed.

Bending at the knees, the mayor knelt down in front of blonde and began wiping the floor.

Emma stared down at Regina and inhaled sharply at the sight of her chest moving as she wiped vigorously at the coffee spreading about the floor.

“You’ve made quite the mess, sheriff.”

Time—that pesky little reminder that life goes on—stood on its axis and reversed course as soon as the words met the sheriff’s ears. She felt it. Emma felt the exact moment that time stood still and pulled her from the present vice grip of her horror and embarrassment and tossed her violently back into the middle of that damned dream where Regina knelt before her in that very ensemble and spoke those very words.

“Thank you, Ms. Lucas,” Regina said once she’d finished and stepped around the blonde in order to hand the waitress the dish towel.

“Uh, sure,” Ruby stuttered.

And yet again, Emma missed the silent communication that passed between the two women as Ruby passed the mayor a fresh cup of coffee. Regina backed away from the counter and threw the sheriff a disgusted sneer as she headed out of the diner.

Emma, still staring down at the spot where Regina had practically knelt between her legs, breathed in a sigh of relief when she heard the telling chimes of the bell announce Regina’s departure. As soon as the door closed behind the retreating mayor, Emma expelled that shaky breath and put her face in her hands. She’d done it. She’d literally come face to face with the object of her desire and held her shit together. Yes, she’d made a fool out of herself but it now seemed a small price pay in the face of what other atrocities she could have reaped due to her raging libido. She’d stared at and inhaled the walking personification of her dreams. She’d braved the fire and walked over the coals and emerged victorious. And yet, she could not shake the image of Regina Mills walking into Granny’s as if she’d literally been pulled from the love scene of the blonde’s dreams. The prickly nerves in her thighs stabbed at her bones as she leaned the full weight of her torso against the counter.

“What is up with you lately,” Ruby asked as she came and stood in front of her friend.

Emma wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. For all her efforts to remain calm and act normal, Ruby had still been able to tell that all was not well with the sheriff.

“I’m losing my mind,” Emma mumbled. “I . . . I’m not sleeping too good these days and I guess it’s just taking its toll.”

“Oh,” Ruby replied sympathetically. The brunette leaned against the counter and waited for Emma to continue. After a few moments of awkward silence, the waitress tried again to extract more information from her friend. “And I take it that the mayor is still breaking your balls over where you were the other night—which you still haven’t told me—by the way.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby and motioned for a cup of coffee. “There’s nothing to tell, Ruby,” Emma sighed. “My phone was on Do Not Disturb so the phone didn’t ring. Pure and simple.”

“If you say so. But you know the mayor still wants blood, right?”

The telling ping of a text notification pulled Emma from her conversation before she could reply to Ruby’s question/warning.

The background chatter of the diner faded into the distance and melted into the listless white noise of Emma’s psyche. She gulped as she re-read the preview of the message—her shaky hands not yet allowing her to open the message and read it in its entirety. Somewhere through the fog of her panic and confusion her mind registered that Ruby’s lips were still moving; yet, the only thing the blonde could hear was the sound of Regina’s text message coming to life.

**8:43a.m.**

**Regina Mills:**

Come to my office once you are done for the evening . . .

Emma’s sweaty palm gripped the phone and she debated whether or not to read the remaining text. _After work? As in after hours?_

She cursed under her breath as she pressed the message icon to read the remnants of Regina’s note.

**8:43a.m.**

**Regina Mills:**

Come to my office once you are done for the evening. We need to discuss how things are progressing. Six-thirty, Sheriff Swan. Please be on time. Don’t keep me waiting, Emma.

Ruby, taking in the ashen complexion of her frozen friend, reached across the counter in order to place a comforting hand on the blonde’s trembling wrist. “Hey, Em. Sweetie, you okay?”

Finally regaining a portion of her senses enough to realize she was being spoken to, Emma shook her head numbly before passing her phone to the waitress. She knew that Ruby wouldn’t understand; she knew that the woman wouldn’t be able to discern the true significance and nature of the torture encompassed in those few words of text. But still, she needed a witness. She needed someone who would be able to help investigators by telling them where to look for her body; someone who could at least point them in the right direction when Emma dissolved into a liquid pool of primal hunger right in the middle of Regina’s office. They could send the clean-up crew to gather her useless remains and pour them out at the edge of town.

Ruby’s light brown eyes widened with a mixture of amusement and fear as she read the message on the phone.

“Emma,” she tsked as she shook her head and handed the phone back to the sheriff. “You are so fucked.”

“Language,” came the boisterous voice before a wet towel was snapped to the counter. Ruby managed to jerk her hand away just in time.


	5. DREAMS DO COME TRUE: PART 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Emma finally have that after hours meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moment of truth: Hey guys. I suck, I know this. This last chapter has been finished since September. I was in a public place without my laptop when that voice in my head decided to finish up the story so I hand wrote this sucker. I loathe and despise in the inner most part of my soul typing what I have hand-written. I just kept looking at allllll those pages and deflated a little each time. Hopefully this last chapter was worth the wait. My brain is in smut overload. I literally have over a dozen stories that I am going to attempt to complete by New Years (be glad I love you, isuckatnicknames) but I refused to move on and get too invested in another story until I typed this last chapter out. Hopefully, I’ll be able to squeeze in the two alternate versions of this story by New Years as well.

Emma stared at the door to Regina’s office as she forced her hand to stop shaking. The entire drive to the mayor’s office, she’d muttered words of reassurances in order to calm her own tortured brain. She’d walked toward the door that hid the source of her torment with the enthusiasm of a prisoner meeting her final fate. She wanted to be herself—she did. She wanted to be able to at least carry on a cordial conversation with Regina and return to the dysfunctional normalcy they had created—but she couldn’t. Somehow, Emma had reached a point of no return. Her dreams were tormenting her to the point that her days were spent reminiscing on them as though they were wild and fond memories instead of heightened sexual fantasies that had taken over her dream life. She honestly thought that, given time, she would be able to cope with the images that left her soaking and tangled in her sheets and sore every morning . . . she was sure she could handle it . . . until Regina showed up at Granny’s in that goddamn outfit. The sheriff felt her stomach tighten at the memory of Regina knelt down between her legs and wiping at the wasted coffee.

“You may as well come in, sheriff,” the scratchy voice called out from the other side of the door.

Emma eased into the office and stood awkwardly in the center of the room, somehow believing that distance would shield her from her crippling attraction. “How did you even _know_ I was out there?”

“You don’t exactly tip toe in your _combat boots_, Sheriff Swan,” Regina replied as she looked up from her paperwork. Her deep red lips fought the urge to smile at the shifting blonde. The sheriff rocked slightly on her heels as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. Regina let her gaze travel the length of the nervous woman before offering her prey a seat across from her desk.

Emma plopped gracelessly in one of the chairs facing the brunette and met Regina’s heated and black stare. The mayor’s midnight eyes bore into her green orbs until the air became thick with a tension that nearly stole the sheriff’s breath.

“Do you know _why_ I’ve asked you here this evening?” The brunette’s low tone filled the room and settled in the pit of Emma’s stomach. Even coated with a layer of disdain and disapproval, Emma could not deny that Regina’s voice was the epitome of sexy.

Regina licked her bottom lip as she scowled at the woman sitting across from her. Emma caught the motion and stared at the retreating tongue until it disappeared between those impossibly white teeth. In Emma’s dreams, Regina would take that sharp and poisonous tongue and rake it across her flesh until her skin practically burned. The heat would scorch her flesh with its power and sever her tendons with a rage potent enough to destroy entire realms. What she wouldn’t give for just a sample of that mouth . . .

_“Are you going to come for me, my Swan,” Regina whispered hotly in her ear. _

_The blonde beneath her gripped Regina’s blouse and nearly tore the delicate fabric from the mayor’s slender frame. Her hips involuntarily bucked to meet the relentless thrusts as a skillful and devious hand took control of her pleasure. Her body strode toward the excruciating peak and prepared for the inevitability of the splendor she so desperately needed. She strained against the power of it and yet became a slave to the blossoming spasms as they raked through her body. _

_Regina used her knees to spread the blonde’s legs further apart. Emma’s boneless limbs parted for the mayor as their bodies rocked roughly against each other, each thrust causing the desk to scrape against the flawless floor._

_“Regina!” . . . _

“Sheriff Swan . . .”

_The forceful rhythm Emma’s bare cheeks slapping against the cold desk mixed with her open cries pulled greedy and rumbling moans from the mayor. She delved deeper into her prize, pressing her fingers firmly inside the blonde—always demanding more._

_“Oh my god! Oh my god! Regina!” _

“Sheriff Swan!”

The sound of an angry fist hitting the surface of the expansive desk jolted the blonde from her lusty revere and she watched as Regina rose slowly to her feet. Her black eyes peered down at the gaping sheriff as she sauntered to the front of the desk. Regina leaned against the office furniture with her arms folded as she all but snarled at the woman sitting before her.

“Damn it! Did you hear a word I just said,” the brunette snapped.

She wanted to reply—she did. Emma wanted to let her snark run free and watch happily as the mayor’s vein protruded ever so slightly on her forehead. She wanted to tell Regina to lighten up—go to hell—something . . . anything. Yet, her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth as her brain finally registered the mayor’s proximity. Their legs all but grazed one another’s as Emma’s knees began to bounce and initiate the delicious barely-there contact with Regina’s calf muscle. Regina’s subtle perfume eased into her senses and slithered its way down her spine until she slumped against the back of her chair. Coming here was most definitely a terrible mistake.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with your precious car,” Emma retorted with an uneasy grin.

“Is your job a joke to you, Sheriff Swan,” the mayor asked in a deeper tone.

Emma sighed and sat forward in her chair. “No, of course not. But I’m not going to terrorize a whole town over this, Regina.”

“_Excuse_ me?”

“I . . . it’s not exactly the crime of the century,” Emma shrugged with a lop-sided grin—hoping perhaps a bit of levity would ease the tension in the room and siphon a bit of the fire from the mayor’s gaze. Maybe, just maybe, if she exuded the perfect amount of humor and attentiveness, Regina would go back to her damned seat and stop giving her that . . . look. She fought against the second wave of images that threatened a hostile takeover. Emma slammed her eyes shut and willed images of Regina’s naked body to _go away._ Now was NOT the time. The mere thought of that sun-kissed skin—that flawless canvas—being centimeters from her itching fingers, was rapidly turning the sheriff into a helpless fiend. Dear god, all she wanted was one taste . . . one feel of that lithe flesh. Was the mayor smooth everywhere?

“I want the person who damaged my car, sheriff.” Regina’s smoky voice did little to pull her back to reality. The sultry tone enveloped the sheriff in a blanket of yearning that only served to immerse her deeper into the quick sand of her lascivious dreams.

Her helpless peridot eyes lifted to meet the mayor’s unyielding assessment. Their silent conversation swept through the room and each woman battled the other for the final say. Wide green eyes pleaded for a reprieve—begging the siren standing in front of her to release the sheriff from this haze and torture that consumed her very being and every waking thought. Onyx eyes absorbed the pleas and drank in the desperation and the subtlest of a smirk graced the blood red lips. Those eyes looked on uncaringly at the pitiful state of their prey. They sized up the rigid frame of the sexually frustrated gazelle fidgeting in her seat. They rejoiced in her suffering and conveyed their message loud and clear: there would be no respite.

Regina pushed herself away from her desk and nearly moaned at the gasp that escaped her sheriff when their legs brushed together in full contact. The blonde sat stiffly in her chair as Regina began to pace slowly behind her. It was an intimidation tactic she’d used countless times in the Enchanted Forest. The rhythmic and languid tapping of heels during an interrogation while a prisoner was trapped and facing away from their captor seemed to unnerve even the most confident of persons. Regina was pleasantly surprised to learn that her savior was not impervious to such devices.

“What do I have to do, Emma?”

Emma’s entire body snapped to attention at the sound of Regina’s impossibly dark voice wrapped around her first name. It called to her and spoke to her core. That lethal tone, both precise and successful in its execution and delivery, combed its way through her scalp and massaged the filthiest parts of her imagination. _Damn you, Regina. _

“Hmm,” the mayor asked as she continued her languorous back and forth path behind the sheriff. “What exactly do I have to do for you to take me seriously?”

Emma shook herself against the words and nearly bolted from her seat. She leaned forward in an attempt to move herself further away from the brunette stalking behind her like a shark circling the chum-filled waters. Even without turning to see the mayor’s actual proximity, somehow Emma was cursed with the acute awareness of the heat radiating from the mayor’s body.

“It . . .,” she cleared her throat, trying to hide the tremor that escaped into the heavy atmosphere. “It’s not like that, Regina,” she spoke almost desperately to the voice aimed at the back of her head.

“Oh no,” Regina asked in mock challenge and Emma could practically envision a perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising.

“N-no.”

The mayor assessed her quarry and smiled to herself as she uttered the words that she knew would get the blonde out of her seat. “Then by all means, explain it to me, Emma. Because from where I am sitting, had it been _anyone else_, the Savior would have moved heaven and hell to find the culprit.” She spat the words with as much venom as she could muster.

As expected, the Savior, the White Knight, the Saving Grace of Storybrooke launched herself from her chair and whirled around with the righteous indignation that only the child of True Love could possibly have.

“That’s a damn lie and you know it,” Emma said through gritted teeth.

“Do I,” Regina asked as she took a predatory step toward the delectable meal she’d trapped in her web. “You chase the cricket’s mutt all over Storybrooke as though the filthy beast were a runaway child from a milk carton. You drop everything for that simpering mother of yours and that imbecile you call a father. Now that an _actual _crime has been committed you haven’t so much as looked at the report.” Regina throws her hands up in “defeat” and bites into her lower lip. Emma catches the movement and takes an unconscious step back from the mayor.

“What exactly are you saying, _Madam Mayor,_” Emma asked, too upset to register that for each step she took backward, the mayor ever so discreetly stalked forward.

“That you obviously have your favorites.”

“How can you _say _that after all the crap we’ve been through,” Emma all but yelled as her frustrations got the better of her.

“How can I _not_? Tell me, Emma. Is it my fault,” the mayor asked in an innocent and low tone.

“W-what?”

“You are right. We have braved many things together, Emma. Yet, you avoid me and dismiss my concerns as if they mean nothing. So I will ask you again, sheriff. Have I done something? Is it my fault?” Regina schooled her features into what she hoped appeared to convey the picture of genuine confusion and vulnerability. She wanted Emma to see this “soft” and “open” expression. She wanted her soothing tone to assault the savior’s ears and cause the blonde to falter and let down her guard. As soon as she was sure that Emma had seen what she wanted her to see, Regina cast aside her façade, knowing full well Emma would perceive that she’d just witnessed a genuine emotion from the otherwise stoic brunette.

Regina smiled inwardly as she watched the blonde transform from a warrior to a nervous fledging pinned under the gaze of a dark mistress. Regina wanted, no—needed—to see the look in her savior’s eyes when she registered that her body would soon be held captive between the hard desk and the mayor’s soft body. She needed Emma to experience those whirlwind of conflicting emotions and to be so off-balance that her mind would register little else save the feel of the mayor’s perfectly manicured hands that would soon be between those pale and trembling thighs. Based on how the sheriff practically deflated, Regina could tell that the gears of Emma’s mind were slowly beginning to put the pieces into place.

The anger and agitation melted away from Emma’s body and the defensive cloud she’d surrounded herself with dissipated into the night air as she registered for the first time that the back of her thighs were now pressed against the front Regina’s desk. How could she be so stupid? For the briefest of moments she’d forgotten herself and exactly whose company she was in. She’d forgotten that she was in the presence of an infuriatingly exotic creature whose very presence caused her nipples to harden. She’d forgotten that this was the woman of her literal dreams, wearing an outfit _from_ her dreams and practically hissing the words that she’d been tortured with late last night. Somehow, because perhaps she really was the idiot that Regina accused her of being all along, she had completely failed to register the fact Mayor Mills’s lips were glistening from the attention given to them by that darting and teasing tongue.

“Y-your fault,” Emma sputtered at the change in the mayor’s tenor, unable to tear her eyes away from those rose painted lips.

“Yes. Perhaps I have not properly incentivized you, sheriff.” Regina took another step forward. “I want the son of a bitch who destroyed my property,” she whispered hotly, finally closing the gap between them.

Regina breathed in the aroma of Emma’s adrenaline and arousal. It filled her nostrils and assaulted her palette until her senses were acutely aware of only one thing: Emma Swan. She watched in utter delight as the sheriff—her sheriff—stared weakly at her parted lips. Regina brought her hand to Emma’s cheek and stroked the trembling blonde. A whimper fell from the sheriff’s thin lips and she made a decent effort to retreat toward the false security of the desk. The mayor followed her frantic retreat until Emma was effectively pinned against the cold surface. The brunette swore she could all but hear that wondrous thundering of Emma’s heart fighting the confines of her ribcage. She envisioned taking the blonde and invading every _inch _of her trim and fit body until the sheriff was all but certain that her heart would beat no more. Regina did not just want to fulfill Emma’s dream. No, mediocrity and the bare minimum were the ingredients of lack luster performances. Regina wanted to make Emma’s dreams come true; and then, she wanted to shatter those images and fuck the blonde woman until it was engrained in her frazzled psyche that Regina Mills was the only true lover her body had ever known.

“What are you doing,” Emma asked helplessly, afraid to allow her voice to climb above a whisper.

Regina replied by wedging a shapely stocking clad leg between the Savior’s thighs and pressing her body firmly against the blonde’s. The heat from their breasts burned through the obnoxious layers of clothing.

“Regina,” Emma sighed desperately. “I . . . you . . . please, shit.” She was shaking, she realized almost resentfully. The cruel gods of life, lust, and destiny were toying with her sanity. They were taunting her with pitiless manifestations of her inner desires, preparing to leave her mocked and exposed. Fate was determined to make a fool of Emma Swan, and for some reason, Regina Mills was Fate’s unmerciful tool.

Those slender olive hands buried themselves inside her leather jacket until Emma could feel Regina pulling her shirt free and unbuttoning her jeans.

“Regina,” she tried again. “Why? What are you doing,” she half moaned and half whined when the heat from Regina’s bare touch slid under her shirt and across her taut abdomen. Her eyes closed and she exhaled a shaky breath as she drowned herself in that scalding touch.

“Emma,” the witch taunted as her nails crawled teasingly across the sheriff’s stomach. “Look at me, Miss Swan,” Regina demanded.

The sheriff bit into her lower lip as her eyes met Regina’s. The blonde’s face contorted into a masterpiece of tortured need as her hips betrayed her and pressed forward toward the mayor’s intrusive thigh. She tightened her grip on the desk, hoping that it would ground her and remind her that yes, she was still on Earth—despite the celestial sensations created by Regina’s touch.

“Kiss me,” Regina whispered.

“Regina—”

“Kiss me, Emma,” the vixen urged. Emma hissed at the feel of Regina’s nails digging in her back and arched against the mayor as she cried out. Regina seized her opportunity and claimed the blonde’s trembling and open mouth.

It was too much. Dreams? Okay. Longing and Pining? Okay. Eerily similar encounters _straight _from her dreams? Okay. But this. Dear god, _this:_ lips that descended on her and snaked a surprisingly thick tongue between her teeth? It was _too _much. The remaining vestiges of her will power crumbled and surrendered to the woman who seemed content to suck Emma’s bottom lip between her teeth and nibble on the tender flesh as though they had all the time in the world. The brunette’s full lips teased and taunted Emma, daring her to take what she wanted—what she needed. Emma groaned in frustration and lurched forward. She listened as the remnant of her self control fell from the peak of the mountain and drowned in her desire. She’d fought with valor. She’d tried to do the honorable thing. She’d tried to keep her distance, but now . . . now her cravings beckoned to her and she realized that she would be a fool to reject what the supple goddess was offering. She leaned forward to accept the kisses and inhale the sensual aura of the woman who now had her completely under her spell.

“What are you doing to me,” Emma sighed against those sinful lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” Regina trailed her delicate but firm touch up the blonde’s ribcage and under her brassiere, sighing in utter contentment at the warmth of the heated flesh. Her thumbs traced the hardened nipples until Emma’s breathless pants became needy mewls.

“God, Regina . . .”

“Do you,” she asked again, taunting the blonde with her velvet voice. “I could pull away . . . we could pretend that none of this happened . . .” Regina placed a trail of light kisses along the tender column of the Savior’s neck. “Is that what you want, Emma? Do you think I could leave this office and climb into my bed without remembering how delicious it feels to have my leg between your thighs?” The mayor wedged her thigh deeper between the blonde’s shaky thighs and smiled against Emma’s throat when felt the blonde rock against her with increased fervor. Emma whimpered into the night air as the torturous personification of her dreams hummed against her sensitive flesh and bit into her slender neck.

“Regina . . . goddamnit,” she gasped. By sheer force of will her body remained upright and pressed against the mayor’s. She buried her hands in the mayor’s thick mane and pulled at her hungrily until their mouths met and dueled for more . . . more tongue . . . more taste . . . more access . . . they needed _more._

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” the mayor replied breathlessly.

Regina stepped back, her gaze never leaving the blonde’s flushed face, as she yanked the savior’s hips away from the desk. She licked her lips at the sight of exposed flesh as she pulled the sheriff’s jeans down to her ankles. She halted the blonde’s attempts to free her legs completely.

“Oh no,” she chuckled darkly. “I like you trapped this way,” she whispered before shoving her sheriff back against the desk.

Emma whined at the feel of hot fingertips roaming up her thighs.

“I can smell you, Emma,” the brunette growled as she reinserted a knee between the sheriff’s trapped thighs. She rubbed her thigh against the heat and smiled in triumph when Emma’s panty-covered lips were pressed firmly against her leg.

Emma, well beyond the point of pride or self-control, ground her hips downward onto the mayor’s tensed thigh. Regina sunk her teeth hungrily into her exposed neck, eliciting a moan sheer pleasure from the alabaster beauty.

“Ride me, Emma,” the mayor demanded huskily. Emma whimpered at the command as her body bucked against the mayor. She ground her swollen lips against Regina’s leg, reveling in the deposit of arousal that coated the mayor’s thigh. Regina gripped the back of Emma’s neck as she held the blonde closely and reclaimed the tender flesh of her neck with a greedy and eager mouth.

“Oh shit,” Emma cried out as her sensitive clitoris made contact with that invasive leg at just the right angle. She doubled her efforts to maintain the agonizing and tremendous torture of the perfect positioning. She fucked herself against the mayor’s body as though she were a wild steed breaking free of the confines of her imprisonment and heading toward the glorious pastures of an earth-shattering release. Regina held her tightly, never taking her mouth away from her neck or her hands away from her body. She wanted Emma to feel the power of her hands on her slick flesh. She wanted the sheriff to drown in the overwhelming sensation of her nails digging into her hip and her hand holding her head in place as the mayor claimed what was hers.

Her moans filled the still office until Regina was sure that the sheriff’s voice was now sealed into the walls and would forever provide a permanent echo. Days from now, hell _weeks_, Regina was certain that she would still be able to hear the incoherent and ever-increasing cries of her wild and beautiful swan. Emma worked her hips and thrust her pelvis forward with a reckless abandon that spoke clearly of a need—a desperate need—for climax and the euphoria of its aftermath. She braced herself with shaky hands against the desk as Regina grabbed her behind with both hands. The brunette took control of the pace and forced Emma’s body into a frantic and aggressive tempo that only a queen could provide. She growled into the crook of Emma’s neck before biting the sweaty skin and licking possessively at the mark.

“Regina-Regina—_shit!_ Y-you’re gonna make me cum,” Emma half squealed, half screamed as the tide began to rush toward her consciousness and threaten the shores of her sanity.

She knew. Emma knew the onslaught of spasms would not be gentle. She knew they would show her no mercy. The climax would rend her and splinter her limbs; it would claim her just as Regina had claimed her and leave nothing behind save a puddle of her own juices and her goddamn sheriff’s badge. Even still, knowing the fate that awaited her, Emma allowed the mayor to continue her brutal guidance. The blonde’s near shrieks as her clitoris rubbed roughly against Regina’s leg with each merciless ministration transformed into a silent open-mouthed scream as her orgasm trampled through her womb and took charge of her motor skills. Her legs shook of their own accord as her hips locked into place. Even still, the mayor sank her nails into the tender flesh of the sheriff’s cheeks in order to urge Emma to ride the overwhelming torrent of her release.

When she was certain that she’d drawn out every ounce of energy that she could from the woman against her, Regina stepped back to survey her handiwork. Emma rested gracelessly on her elbows, inhaling deep and quivering breaths as her legs, now useless and liquid, fought to keep her from sinking down to the floor.

“Holy . . . shit,” Emma huffed with a winded chuckle.

“Mmm. Indeed.”

Regina stood before the spent savior and waited patiently for Emma’s senses to return. She watched the rise and fall of Emma’s chest until her breathing was once again even and calm. “Take off your jacket.”

When her demand was met with silence and noncompliance, the queen stepped forward and pulled Emma away from the desk. “I want this off, Emma,” she reiterated as she peered into glazed and unfocused eyes. Regina grabbed the lapels of Emma’s jacket and yanked her forward and kissed her.

Emma, despite her haze, responded with equal passion as the mayor shoved the offending red jacket away from her body and yanked it free. Gasping for breath, they broke the kiss, each assessing the flushed state of their mate and their kiss-swollen lips. Emma watched as Regina threw the jacket to the floor as though it were the most offensive object she’d ever had the displeasure of seeing.

“My pants,” Emma whined.

The mayor smirked as she once again wedged her leg between the blonde’s now sweaty and sticky thighs. “I’ve told you, Emma. I very much like you this,” she hissed as she snaked an arm around the sheriff’s waist and held her tightly. Her free hand dove eagerly between their bodies until it was nestled between them and trapped between Emma’s thighs and her own leg. She smiled at the complex feel of her soiled nylons smearing Emma’s now cool nectar against the back of her hand and the scorching heat and wetness that greeted her as she bypassed soaked underwear. Emma held on the mayor as if her very life depended on constant physical contact with the very woman that was pulling her apart. Unnaturally adroit fingers thrust into her throbbing center and burrowed their way deep in her clenching walls.

“Oh _ssshit!_”

Regina pushed her fingers in and out of Emma’s heat until her ridged walls captured her skillful digits in a vice hold and flooded her demanding hand. She plunged roughly into the blonde, pushing through the spasms and flutters, until her palm met Emma’s swollen labia and sensitive clitoris in quick succession. She rejoiced in her sheriff’s savage grunts and the feel of their bodies hitting the desk. The desk scraped the immaculate floor with each thrust and creaked under the weight of their bodies. The symphony of noises assaulted the brunette’s senses, driving her forward in a haze of lust she hadn’t experienced in ages. She honed in on the sensitive mass of tissue, slamming into the blonde and pressing against the mass with each stroke.

Dear god, how could she have known? Hell, how could she _not _have known that it would be like this? Emma gave herself over to the force that was Regina Mills. The tendrils of her climax planted roots at the base of her spine, causing her to arch deeply into the mayor. Again, her legs ignored every signal her brain managed to convey. Her limbs shook violently as she clutched desperately to the mayor’s waist, her nails digging into the fabric of Regina’s blouse and bruising the flesh underneath. She screamed into the night air and cried out the name of the woman who was responsible for her seizing limbs and her blurred vision.

The mayor’s grip tightened around Emma’s straining and tense waist as she doubled her efforts between the blonde’s quaking legs. She growled possessively with the force of her labor as she worked her fingers in and out of Emma until the latter’s face contorted into a masterpiece of ecstasy.

“Regina,” Emma whimpered anxiously. “R-Regina! Ah!”

The spasms rolled through the pit of her belly and spread through her body like a wildfire. She was coming apart at the seams and those damned fingers seemed more than willing to allow her to burst into pieces.

“Yes, dear,” Regina asked breathlessly, slowing her onslaught and granting the sheriff a bit of a reprieve. Their labored breaths filled the silence as Emma did her best to regain control of her rebellious body. Yet, it was no use. Her body had gone rogue and abandoned any thoughts of returning to reality. All it knew in that moment was the otherworldly sensations that licked at her skin and settled just beneath the surface and swirled through her veins. Goddamn this woman. Dream? Fuck a dream, Emma decided in that moment. No dream, no matter how intense—no matter how potent—would ever compare to the rapture of being ravished by the real deal.

The slow thrusts were hard and precise, hitting her sensitive areas until her body produced tremors that nearly brought her to her knees. Regina held her closely, swallowing her trembling cries and feeding the blonde her thick and eager tongue. It was exquisite. It was primitive and carnal and neither woman could have asked for anything better. It was perfect.

Finally, the quakes subsided and left the sheriff’s body a numb and hollow shell of her former self. Emma sagged weakly against the mayor, thankful for the brunette’s strength that prevented her from hitting the floor.

“What did you do to me,” came the hoarse voice after long moments of the thick atmosphere being filled with a duet of labored breaths.

Regina smiled lazily into the sweaty neck of her new lover. It was a fair question, she reasoned. At the very least, Emma deserved an honest answer.

“Making your dreams come true, dear sheriff.”

Immediately she felt the tired woman stiffened in her arms and rise to meet her gaze. Confusion and horror clouded her features as she opened her mouth to unleash a string of questions. Regina, feeling the apprehension seeping from the blonde’s body, raised her hand, still sticky and coated with Emma’s essence, and pressed her index finger against the blonde’s parted lips.

“Shhh,” she whispered while staring at the enticing lips and her glistening fingers. “I want to continue this. I think we should examine these dreams of yours, Emma.” Regina slid her index finger between the parted lips and smiled triumphantly when the sheriff obeyed the silent command to suck the evidence of her climaxes from Regina’s slender finger. “Seeing your dreams, seeing how much you desire me . . .” Regina pulled one of Emma’s hands away from her waist and guided it inside her pants and past her underwear. They both whimpered at the generous wetness that met Emma’s questing fingers. “ . . . does this to me.” Emma thrust her fingers deeper into the mayor as she sucked more of the mayor’s fingers into her mouth. Regina moaned out her name as she arched into her.

“How did you know,” Emma asked once the mayor’s hand was licked clean.

Regina, lost in the throes of passion, could do little but cry out. She bucked her hips against the fingers, taking them deeper into her hungry body until the palm of Emma’s hand rubbed eagerly against her clitoris. “_Emma! Emma!” _

“How,” she asked, watching Regina’s features contort as if in pain. The brunette threw her head back and worked in tandem to the artful intrusion of those all-knowing digits.

“M-magic,” she stuttered, unable to say anything more.

For Emma, not further explanation was needed. Regina knew of her deepest and darkest fantasies. Regina had all but peered into her soul and walked away with proof of ownership. The brunette had invaded her most private subconscious musings and walked away with a keen desire to seduce and claim the woman who was now bringing her to the edge of a massive and splendid glory. Regina Mills. Regina Mills wanted her. Emma increased her strokes as she thought of the mayor seeing her dreams. She pushed harder and more forcefully into the woman, drawing out moans of sheer carnality as the mayor cried out into the night air. She envisioned the impermeable Regina Mills writhing in her bed, driven mad with lust and the desire to be in Emma’s arms. She worked her fingers harder into the tight cove, ignoring the burn of her tired muscles. They both wanted this. Regina had seen all that the blonde had to hide and she had not shunned her, mocked her, or turned her way. No, instead she sought her out. The brunette had embraced her primitive needs—those urgent cravings matching that of the town’s savior.

Regina’s orgasm raked through her blistered mind and raced to break free from her constricting and heated center. Her walls gripped Emma’s unyielding and questing hand until her spasms peaked, sending her toned body into a fit of quakes. She stiffened from head to toe, trapping the persistent hand between her thighs as her cries became climatic shrills of passion and disbelief. Who knew that being with Emma Swan would feel so _good . . ._so . . . _transcendent? _It was an outer body experience that left her heavy and yet floating as she rode her release and met the thrusts of the woman who seemed to know her body better than she knew her own. She reveled in the tremors that roamed every inch of her body and leaned into the sheriff. At last, the clouds cleared and cradled her slowly back to Earth as the last of remnants of her rolling spasms finally set her free.

Emma held the mayor closely and stroked her jaw line. She waited quietly and contently for the mayor to stir before easing her hand from between those luscious thighs. Good lord, there was so much more she wanted to do to this woman. There was so much more that had been left unexplored between the two of them. She brought her hand to her mouth and lapped wholeheartedly at the nectar that coated her fingers. It was a start—a delicious start—but she knew her hunger would not be sated until she tasted Regina properly. She needed the woman naked—she needed both of them unclothed—and discovering the parts of each other that their current position wouldn’t allow.

“You have a choice, Ms. Swan,” Regina croaked when her breathing returned to a somewhat normal state. With an unsteady stance and shaky legs, Regina backed away from Emma in order to meet her gaze head on. “I can either bend you over this desk and fuck you absolutely senseless . . .” Regina smiled deviously at the hardened lust that clouded her savior’s beautiful face. “ . . . or, we can continue this at my house . . . in a bed. Minus the clothes, of course.”

“_Fuuuck,” _the sheriff muttered. She pushed herself away from the desk and entered Regina’s personal space. She pressed their lips together in a kiss that promised more than mere words could ever divulge. It was demanding and all-knowing. It was a manifestation of their personalities: assertive, confident, and greedy for more. Even without words, both women knew a decision had been made. Still, Emma confirmed.

“Get us out of here,” she growled.

“As you wish,” Regina crooned in a sultry voice, neither bothering to retrieve Emma’s jacket or pull up the blonde’s pants before a cloud of purple smoke transported the two women to 108 Mifflin St.


End file.
